


Edward Nygma Is REALLY Into Pain

by orphan_account



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Bloodplay, M/M, Porn With Plot, Risk Aware Consensual Kink, Violence Fetish, minimal plot but still plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 07:51:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2380562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You were probably thinking it too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Edward Nygma Is REALLY Into Pain

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd so sorry for mistakes

Oswald Cobblepot wasn't very good with interrogation. He learned that quickly when Fish had asked him to get Edward Nygma's help. He had gotten to pick his method, whether it be through questioning, blackmail, or force. However, his record showed no blackmail material, and despite enjoying it, he wasn't good with violence. At least not the restrained kind. So when he had walked into the police station and gone to the forensics unit, he had been rightfully terrified.

The room was vast, although only a few people were working in it. They bustled around, carrying samples and evidence bags with them, most of them in lab coats. In the corner he saw a man in a suit who matched the description given to him. 

He strode across the tile floor, dress shoes making a light tap with each step. He straightened his vest and jacket as he approached. He needed to look good, inviting, unthreatening. Unless he was supposed to look scary. He should have gone over this with Fish, because now he was beginning to panic.

His jaw may or may not have involuntarily stiffened when he saw Edward Nygma. He was, for lack of a better word, beautiful. He would look so pretty crying. So, so nice and wrecked and bloody and battered and- wow. He felt a small heat begin to pool in his stomach. He needed to stop before things got worse.

"Excuse me? Are you Edward Nygma?" His voice had cracked a little at first, throat and mouth dry.

"Yes?" Edward looked up from his work, a glint of annoyance in his eye. Oswald briefly wondered if that was persistent or momentary.

"Fish Mooney sent me. My name is Oswald Cobblepot. Do you have a moment?" He spoke awkwardly, worried to meet the eye of the other man for fear of giving away the want inside of him.

Edward smirked before he spoke. "Riddle me this!" He spoke with great gusto and enthusiasm, as though he had been waiting to say that all day.

"This thing all things devours;  
Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;  
Gnaws iron, bites steel;  
Grinds hard stones to meal;  
Slays king, ruins town,  
And beats mountain down."

He stared expectantly at the shorter man, and Oswald felt a blush creep up his neck.

"Time." He answered almost instantaneously. "You stole that from The Hobbit."

Suddenly Edward scowled, distaste written on his features. "What did you want again?"

"My boss sent me to talk to you. Fish Mooney?" He gave a small smile which almost immediately fell when he saw how Edward stiffened and grew slightly afraid upon hearing the name.

"What does she want?" He muttered, looking down at his work. It was a paper, notes scribbled in the lines with doodles of question marks in green pen on the sides. He momentarily thought of asking about them, but then again, his job was to get Edward to help them out, not get involved.

"Her associates need some help getting rid of evidence. She figured since you've done some dubious things in the past, you could help with this too."

Edward scoffed and stared at him for a moment. "Are you here to blackmail me, then? Good luck." He stood up and began to walk away before Oswald grabbed his arm. The fluorescent lights made his skin look so pale. How prominent would bruises be in this lighting. He shut his eyes and took in a shuddery breath before looking at him again.

"She needs your help." He spoke slowly, hoping to be convincing.

"And what will I get in return?" He pried his arm out of Oswald's hand, which he had only just now realized was white-knuckle gripping him. Embarrassed, he pulled his hand away and ran it down his vest, smoothing the purple fabric out.

Oswald honestly didn't know what the reward was. Now he figured that he had been expected to take a path that had no reward except for a life outside of prison. Or, really, any life at all.

"Money?"

"Riddle me this!" He began once again, a huge grin sprawling across his face. 

"Whoever makes it, tells it not. Whoever takes it, knows it not. And whoever knows it wants it not. What is it?"

Oswald thought deeply for a moment, but came up with nothing. "I don't know." He said with disbelief on his features. He had always been good with riddles and the such, but these were his riddles, and he seemed to enjoy them quite a bit more than Oswald did.

"Counterfeit money!" He practically shouted, a twinge of annoyance but mostly pride in his voice. "Meaning, that I want real money. The kind I can't get in trouble for. Deal?" He held out a hand and Oswald shook it quickly.

Why had he assumed that Fish would give him fake money? She wasn't like that. She was tough, but certainly not dishonest.

Edward began to walk away when Oswald shouted after him. "Hey! She wouldn't do that!"

He wasn't sure why, but the idea outraged him! What did this boy know about her? How could he assume something like that? Edward kept walking, ignoring him as he grabbed his coat and walked out of the room, and as Oswald followed behind him, cane in hand, he went out of the building.

"I'm talking to you, Edward. Do NOT ignore me!" His words did nothing though as the man continued to walk. As he saw an ally approaching, Oswald smelled an opportunity to get his attention. He picked up the pace until he was directly behind him and, when they approached the ally, he shoved him down onto the ground.

Edward hissed, a small cry escaping him as his arm made contact with the ground. It was wet and dirty on the cement, small gravely rocks covering concrete below them.

Oswald tried not to focus too hard on the sound that had escaped Edward, instead getting down on his knees and straddling him, grabbing him by the collar.

"Do not talk about her that way again. Do you understand me, Edward?" He sneered out the last part, mocking him.

Honestly, this anger was not justified for any reason, and really had nothing to do with Fish. He just wanted to hurt someone, and Edward was here, and that was it. The thing with Fish had just been a match to start the fire that burned his insides. He could feel the figurative smoke start clouding his brain, feel his organs shriveling and he felt so hot and alive.

"Again."

It had been quiet, and he was pretty sure he was imagining it, but then again, what if he hadn't been? What if Edward had really said that?

"What?" He spat out angrily, tightening his grip on Edward's collar and bringing him closer. Edward's eyes shut at that, an almost silent whimper emitting from his throat.

"Again. Hit me again." He muttered, eyes still squeezed shut. "Please."

Without hesitation, Oswald let go of his collar unexpectedly, sending his torso falling backwards and he could actually hear the sound of his head smacking against the pavement and that really should not have been as hot as it was.

He stood up quickly as Edward writhed below him. He grabbed his cane that had been abandoned during the initial shoving. He raised it above his head and when Edward opened his eyes his face contorted in such a pretty way that he almost felt bad when he swung his arms down and hit him hard in the stomach.

Edward let out a choked scream and began to cry in pain. However, he also began to grow erect, so Oswald took that as an invitation to keep going. He himself was beginning to feel that unmistakable heat in the pit of his stomach and stroked himself through his pants for a second before swinging his foot to kick Edward in the ribs.

When he heard the completely filthy and obscene moan that came out of Edward, he knew he needed more. He went on kicking him for another minute or so before got back in a position to straddle. He ground their clothed cocks together, setting a fast pace before stopping abruptly to scoot forward and draw his fists back. He swung in, landing a hard punch to Edward's lip that hurt his hand to deliver. 

Edward's lip almost instantly split, and Oswald leaned down to lick up the blood. It was warm and metallic and so good. Edward whined and thrusted wildly into the air, moving his hips as much as possible with Oswald on top of him.

"Stop!" He yelled, grabbing Edward by the hair with one hand and slapping him with the other. He continued to mewl and whine, but stilled his body.

"Good boy." He reached back and unzipped Edward's pants, shoving a hand into them and slowly stroking him. He used his other hand to reach into his coat pocket, pulling out a small knife. He unbuttoned Edward's jacket and cut the buttons of his shirt, exposing his pale chest.

He took the knife and with a quick whip of his hand sliced open the flesh of his stomach. Edward was sobbing now, growing ever harder as Oswald continued to cut him open. He smiled when Edward finally came without Oswald even increasing the pace slightly. He stood up, feeling his own prominent erection now. That could wait until later. He didn't need Edward's assistance.

"Monday, 9 o'clock at the Fish Bone." He spoke matter-o-factly, fixing his shirt and vest. He spit on a tired and blissed out Edward who lay bleeding in the ally. Oswald almost couldn't believe Edward had been the one to initiate such as a thing. And, as he walked home, he thought that maybe he should visit him again sometime.


End file.
